A Cellular Problem
by vaguelyattracted
Summary: Stuck outside the Hummels' house in the sweltering heat, a chance meeting with Santana Lopez gives Blaine Anderson absolutely nothing to think about.


The polished wood creaked beneath Blaine's shoes as he paced back and forth across the Hummels' front porch. He had pressed the doorbell twice and knocked three times, but there hadn't been the usual ruckus behind the door – various family members calling out that they'd get it, Finn managing to either trip himself or trip Kurt (on one memorable occasion, both) as they slid down the hall, and Kurt's delighted exclamation of, "Blaine!" whether he was expected or not.

Instead there was silence from inside the house, the only ambient noise being the next-door neighbour's lawnmower and the kids across the street giggling and shrieking as they ran under their sprinkler. _Lucky things_, Blaine thought as he wiped a drop of sweat from the top of his forehead. The summer weather had set in terribly quickly, and this day had been the worst so far. The heat seemed relentless, and Blaine just wasn't dressed for the temperature. He'd figured that he'd knock on the Hummels' door, explain his idiocy to Kurt, step inside, wave hello to Carole who'd be making lemonade in the kitchen, and go straight up to Kurt's room, where they'd spend the afternoon enjoying the air-conditioning while finishing off their _Lord of the Rings_ marathon.

In reality, there he was, flopped down on the wooden porch bench; plucking from his knee the jeans that seemed determined to meld with his skin. Blaine considered getting up and walking around to the back of the house again to see whether the entire family had fallen asleep in their backyard, but decided against it when he realised that it'd just be easier to bash his fist against the wood of the door a few more times.

Blaine couldn't even go home and come back later – he had been forced to promise his parents he wouldn't spend the entire summer holiday driving between Westerville and Lima, that he would do more with his time than obsess about his boyfriend, that he'd get a job or an internship – something to keep him occupied. He figured it'd be best to let them think he was behaving maturely – and hence score more uninterrupted time with Kurt – than fight them and be stuck filing paperwork at his mum's office for the entire summer. That was a plan that wouldn't go over too well when his parents learned that he'd been extremely distracted and left his cell phone in Kurt's car after their movie date the night before.

Blaine didn't think he could be blamed – the broken air-conditioning at the cinema meant that Kurt had unbuttoned not one, but _two_, of the shiny black buttons on his shirt – and well, Blaine had been as distracted as a seventeen-year-old boy could be expected to be under such circumstances. Hence, his phone had been forgotten in Kurt's cupholder, and if he didn't get it back, well, Blaine was in deep trouble.

He stood up and stretched his arms above his head, mentally calculating whether he had enough petrol to sit in his car and turn on the fan, when he saw a figure jog along the footpath that stretched in front of the Hummels' yard. He saw the person turn its head towards the house, and with a slight shock, recognised Santana Lopez, that feisty girl from New Directions, looking entirely unlike her usual self in a sweat-soaked singlet and the shortest shorts known to man.

He watched her double take as she recognised the boy on the porch, and with a quick look up and down the street, Santana jogged up the Hummels' front path and came to a stop in front of Blaine.

"Anderson," she said, a small smirk on her face. "Kurt's kicked you out already?"

"Good afternoon, Santana," Blaine replied lightly, recognising her teasing tone. "Lovely to see you again."

He laughed as she disgustedly mouthed, "Lovely to see you again," as though she'd never heard anyone say it sincerely before. Though, going by what Kurt had told him, she probably hadn't.

"What're you doing here anyway?" she asked him, hoisting her leg up onto the top of the porch railing, wincing as it stretched. "I heard you two had a hot date last night – you can't look too needy, Blaine Anderson."

Blaine started. "Wait, what?" he asked incredulously. "How do you even know Kurt and I went out last night?"

Now it was Santana's turn to laugh at Blaine as she stretched her other leg. "Don't underestimate the Lima gossip mill, Anderson. Two guys go to a movie together – two openly gay guys, I mean – believe me, someone will say something."

"Sounds like _Gossip Girl_," Blaine said without thinking, and immediately regretted it as Santana let out another bark of laughter and threw herself down on the top porch step. "Shut up," he mumbled embarrassedly, dropping down to sit beside her, leaning back on his hands.

"So, you didn't answer me. What are you doing here?"

"I had to pick up something I left in Kurt's car last night – my _phone_, Santana, don't even think of anything else – but the Hummels aren't home."

"Yeah, they're all probably in Bellefontaine," she said, and expanded when she saw his confused expression. "The football team got roped into playing an exhibition match down there today – the Cheerios were all forced to go as well."

"Wait, how do you know that?" Blaine asked, noticing her bitter tone as she uttered the word "Cheerios".

Santana snorted as she pulled the hairband from her hair, letting it tumble around her shoulders. "Britt and Quinn went too – they're trying to get their spots on the squad back. They asked me, but you know, obviously –"

She gestured at herself as if to say, _well, clearly I didn't go_.

Blaine didn't say anything, just shifted on the step until he was completely comfortable. Santana was staring at her knees lost in thought for a minute until her head snapped up and she narrowed her eyes at Blaine, who was watching her curiously.

"Hey, no psychoanalysis, Anderson."

Blaine held up his hands in mock-surrender, smiling at the indignant girl. "Nope, no analysis," he said. "Just listening, not thinking."

Santana nodded and they sat in silence for a minute, staring out at the empty street. The kids across the road had trooped inside, and the lawn-mowing neighbor had given up and retreated to his shed. Blaine could faintly hear the sound of a football game coming from the TV he obviously had inside the shed.

"You're thinking," Santana said accusingly, glaring up at Blaine. "Come on, out with it."

"Fine," said Blaine, turning to face her. "Why didn't you go with Quinn and Brittany? Kurt said you were a fierce – his word not mine, _don't laugh!_ – cheerleader."

"I'm better off without them," Santana said simply, and then seemed to have an afterthought. "Plus, Sue Sylvester's a bitch. She probably wouldn't let me back on the team anyway."

Blaine thought of the scheming cheerleading coach he'd met with Kurt at the Lima Bean before Regionals. "I don't disagree," he said. "Anyone who drinks – sorry, eats – coffee the way that woman does is going to have _something_ wrong with them."

Santana smiled slightly and bent to retie her shoelace, her fingers slipping on the double knot. She sat up; the thoughtful look gone from her face and her usual smirk back in place.

"Speaking of coffee, how are you and your lover boy doing these days? We only ever seem to see you two practically inhaling medium drips at that terrible excuse for a café."

"Hey, there's an art to coffee, I'll have you know," Blaine retorted playfully, pushing his hair back from his forehead. "Kurt and I have it perfected."

"Oh, of course!" she said, groaning. "You'll work on being cutesy over cups of coffee, but you know, Anderson, that's not exactly what a relationship's about."

"We're fine, Santana, really," Blaine said, his hand subconsciously tugging at his collar. The girl's eyes followed his hand, and before he realised, she swatted his fingers away and pulled the collar away from his neck.

"I can see that now," she said gleefully, peering at the red mark. "Obviously Hummel knows what he's doing."

"Oh, shut up. What's happening in _your_ love life then?"

There was a moment of silence as Santana pulled away from Blaine and looked down her feet, and Blaine inwardly cursed himself and his big mouth.

"I'm sorry, Santana, that was really rude-"

"Don't worry about it," Santana said wearily, waving his apology away. "I have a pretty non-existent love life. Every relationship I'm in is purely … platonic."

Blaine shifted a little closer to her on the step, wanting to put his hand on her shoulder but not knowing whether she'd push it away. "There's nothing wrong with that, you know. Everyone needs good friends."

"No, I know. Look," she said in a brighter tone, pulling her phone from her pocket. "I'll ring Kurt for you – your need to see him or your phone or whatever's probably pretty urgent if you're willing to wait in this heat."

Blaine watched as she scrolled to Kurt's name in her phone and pressed talk. After a few seconds, Kurt obviously picked up.

"Hi Hummel, do I ever have news for you – guess who's here with me … wait, what do you mean … what could I possibly have done to him?"

Santana listened incredulously for a moment before letting out a peal of laughter. "No, he just looked at me with those puppy dog eyes – you left the kid stranded on your porch in this heat-"

A burst of noise came through Santana's speaker, and she held the phone a foot away from her ear as Kurt told her off over the sounds of a rowdy football game. Blaine waited, grinning, as Santana told Kurt about Blaine's cell problem.

"Alright, see you later Hummel," she said, ending the call. She turned to Blaine, rubbing her ear. "God, your man can yell. Anyway, he said he'd drop it off at your place because he isn't far from there, so you don't have to sit here like a stray puppy until their family get home."

"Thanks Santana," Blaine said, standing up and offering her his hand. She took it and stood up as well, tucking her phone back into her pocket and tying her hair back up again.

"Thanks Anderson," she said, surprising him, before starting to run down the Hummels' front path. As she reached the footpath she stopped and turned around to look at him. "Lovely to see you again."

Blaine simply laughed and waved to Santana as she ran off down the street, and he made his way to his car, his jeans still sticking but his worries assuaged in the sweltering summer heat.


End file.
